


It's tough to be a God

by Bebbe5



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gryffindor, Humor, Marauders, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 09:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bebbe5/pseuds/Bebbe5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A song-fiction based on the lyrics of "It's tough to be a god" from the soundtrack of "The Road to El Dorado". James and Sirius has to deal with a problem in which Remus is involved. Will they manage to convince him that he's a Marauder just like them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's tough to be a God

**Author's Note:**

> N/A Hi guys, this is my first work on AO3. I hope you like it

**IT'S TOUGH TO BE A GOD**

Common Room of Gryffindor.

An "average" Autumn afternoon.

I'm comfortably sitting on one of the armchairs, reading a book. There's a lot of peace and silence, but there's no wonder: Peter has got detention (you could fill the Black Lake and give its name a real sense with all the cauldrons he has melted); as for James and Sirius… well, believe it or not, they're sitting at a table at my right, diligently doing their homework. How did I manage to convince them? No, not with a potion or a charm. Let's say I can be very persuasive.

They haven't complained until now, but I fear that the idyll won't last much longer.

That's it, just like I was saying. With a big yawn, Sirius leans against the back of the chair, stretching his arms and making the object is balanced on his back legs.

"Have you finished?" I ask him, turning to look at him.

"Almost" he answers, bored "Remus, can't we have a break? We've been here for hours!"

"You have a weird conception of time, Padfoot, seen and considered that you've been sitting there for only twenty minutes." I reply, closing my book.

"It's far too much" James intervened, placing down his feather and pushing aside the parchment he is working on.

"At this time we could be around tormenting Snivellus, making jokes or simply walking around the corridors with the usual crowd of fans behind us."

"Ah yeah, I was forgetting that your ego needs a continuous amount of worship from common mortals. Forgive me, my lords, for keeping you from your duties."

Obviously, silence falls, a sign that the icy gibe, one of those I'm so proud of, has just hit the target.

"Is it sarcasm what I just heard?" James is always the first to recover himself.

"Prongs, come on, leave it. Let's take advantage of it: Remus has just let us free. Let's go take the Map to see where Snivellus is then let's run to play him that trick we had planned. Remember? The one in which we implied doing a nice hairwash with the bubble bath of Mrs. Norris…"

"Sirius, we have a worse problem to deal with here." Says James, staring at me in a way that, I confess, provokes me a certain discomfort.

"… you don't even want to go practice Qudditch a bit?"

"Sirius, this is much more important."

"… don't we even go to spy on Evans and her Prefect girlfriends swimming in the bathtub of the Prefects' bathroom? You know that now it's their turn."

My expression becomes outraged – appearances still must be kept up somehow – but I feel relieved: Sirius knows what subject he has to use in order to convince James. In a few seconds they'll be vanished from my sight.

With a great amount of amazement, though, I see that James takes a deep breath, as if he wanted to take a decision once and for all, then answers:

"Sirius, no."

Okay, now I really should get worried. Sirius is dumbfounded as well and he actually approaches our friend and places a hand on his forehead.

"Remus, he doesn't have a temperature" he tells me with a terrified expression "James, please, tell me, your pumpkin juice had a weird taste? Maybe the roast veal gone bad? Please, tell me you're not going to die."

"I'm not going to die, you flea-ridden! It's Remus the one who has a problem."

Once more we look at him, confused.

"Prongs, there are still two weeks before full moon." Says Sirius in a low voice.

James splats a hand on his forehead, then seizes Sirius by the arm and whispers something in his ear.

Holy Morgana, now I really have to get worried! The marauders stares fixed on me have become two.

"You're absolutely right James, the situation is serious indeed."

In a flash, they place themselves at the sides of the armchair I'm sitting on, blocking every possible way of escape.

"Remus" James starts "I fear you have some confusion in your mind. You know that you're a Marauder as well, don't you?"

"Yes." I answer, a bit hesitantly.

"Then you know that those that you define "our" engagements are yours as well."

"Ah right, because spying on girls having a bath and casting casual spells on the first person that happens along now can be defined as engagements, now."

"Damn Moony, you exaggerate!" James replies "They're not casual spells cast on the first person that happens along: they're enchantments whose target and effects are carefully calculated before. Besides, ninety per cent of times, the target is Snivellus, not some unknown guy."

"And I would like to add" Sirius steps in with a knowing tone "that the last time we weren't the only ones spying on girls in the Prefect's bathroom. A certain Remus Lupin has given us the password and has followed us, glancing around a lot himself."

I feel like I'm blushing till the tip of my hair.

"You got advantage of the fact that the full moon was close and my hormones were a mess."

"Yeah, sure, believe it if you want. Truth is that you're a Marauder just like us."

I hardly think I'm qualified To come across all sanctified I just don't cut it with the cherubim

Tulio, what are you talking about

"Woah, woah, hold your hyppogryphs, Potter, or I could even get offended. I'm absolutely not like you, both in good and evil: I don't have your creativity, we can agree on that, but neither your idiocy. I have to admit that your pranks amuse me quite a lot, but I would never play them. Besides I do not have your cheekiness and your arrogance and…"

There again they're on their knees Being worshipped is a breeze Which rather suits us in the interim Interim, interim, it's me and him

"Alright Remus, then you'll be able to explain why people adore you as well, even when you're not with us. Think about it, everybody prostrates themselves in front of us, whatever happens, and they would be willing to do anything for us if we just asked them. They consider us as gods, can you tell what could be better than that?" James has another go.

It's tough to be a God Tread where mortals have not trod Be deified when really you're a sham

"It's not easy to be like us, always to stay in the middle of attention, to be worshipped… and you're just like us: you have your swarm of fans (okay, it's the geeks' group but there are some of them which I wouldn't scorn myself) and it doesn't seem that you don't like this thing." Who else but Sirius could pronounce this words?

Be an object of devotion Be the subject of psalms It's a rather touching notion All those prayers and those salaams And who am I to bridle if I'm forced to be an idol If they say that I'm a God, that's what I am

But, actually, I must admit that he's right: sometimes I'm also being followed by a small group of girls who blush whenever I turn to look at them. It's kind of embarrassing but, in the end, pleasant as well.

Oh my God, am I really becoming like them? Well, if I analyze the matter to the core, after all I'm not that different from them. Only the fact of backing them when they come up with something makes me an accomplice.

I think they've infected me by now, but this doesn't upset me that much: if they tell me that I'm like them, even if not entirely, there's nothing wrong, isn't it? So be it.

"James, I think we're starting to convince him."

What's more, if we don't comply With the locals' wishes I can see us being sacrificed or stuffed Yes, you have a really good point there So let's be Gods, the perks are great Yeah Hogwarts, Hogwarts on a plate Local feelings should not be rebuffed Never rebuff, never rebuff the local feeling, no my friend

"Yes, I think so. You see, Remus, we're what Hogwarts needs: a nice blow of life. Even if the teachers complain, take points from us and punish us, how do yout hink they would react if we just stopped to be ourselves? First of all, they would kill us, then they would kill themselves because they wouldn't be able to bear boredom."

"Wow, Prongs, you got all conditionals right, I'm amazed."

"Try to be funny, I know you think I'm right. Think about that, the whole school is at our feet, offered to us on a silver plate. Why we should refuse such a generous gift?"

"I suppose that would be unkind." I say, compliant.

It's tough to be a God But if you get the people's nod Count your blessings, keep them sweet, that's our advice

"Oh, see you're starting to comprehend? Yes, I know that it's a tough task, but someone has to do it. The important it's not to lose energy and creativity, Anyway, you don't need to do much in order to astonish and to be adored."

Be a symbol of perfection Be a legend, be occult Take their praise, take a collection As the multitudes exalt

"Everybody considers us the best of the best, models to imitate. We will enter in the history of this school, the important is to accept this role when you wake up every morning. Come now, don't tell me that you don't feel satisfied when your ears perceive all those laughter and those cheers following our pranks."

"You forgot to mention Mc'Gonagall's shrieks."

"Details Moony, mere details."

Don a supernatural habit We'd be crazy not to grab it You got it So sign up two new Gods for paradise Paradise

"Well, now you're convinced that you're a Marauder just like us? A person who will enter into legend, who is thought to have come from another world. Are you convinced that you're part of this Olympus along with us?"

I smile.

"Yeah, I think so."

Obviously I'd foreseen that they would've rejoiced, would've hugged me and that they would've done silly things of this sort, so I've prepared myself to stop it. Once they're about to embrace me I stop them and say in a low, mischievous voice:

"You know what a fantastic idea has come to my mind?"

"James, look, the little tree we've planted is blossoming, I'm so excited."

"Yeah, let's hear, I'm sure that when those first Marauder's words come out of his mouth they will have the effect of a hurricane on whomever they'll decide to hit. Come one, tell us Moony, what has occurred to you?"

"It has occurred to me that if you don't go start doing your homework again in five seconds, I'm playing you that joke of two days ago. Do you remember when I refused to give you my notes of Transfiguration and during the class work I placed myself in front of the teachers' desk so that you haven't been able to copy?"

"That has been a joke in awful taste, Minnie was disappointed as well."

"Oh, but I laughed so much Sirius, because I know that it's for your own good and that, surely, you've learned the lesson."

"Of course, we've learned that when you refuse to help us, in order to avoid nasty surprises, we have to ask someone else."

"Who for example, James? I remind you that out next class-work is History of Magic and that only I, Lily and Snivellus take notes."

"Then, we'll ask them to Evans. Look, there she comes, hey Evans?" says James turning towards Lily, who've just entered in the Common Room.

"What do you want, Potter?" obvious sharp reply from her.

"Since you love me so much, could you please borrow me your notes about History of Magic?"

"Cast a Cruciatus on yourself, you'll never have them." What an answer! Either she's got up with the wrong foot, or James has already upset her enough.

Prongs, as a matter of fact, is astonished and turns towards Sirius, then towards me.

With a sly smile, I point at my wrist – watch and say:

"Five seconds has already passed."

No more words are needed. With a rustle of robes and papers, there they are, at the table, writing on their parchment, muttering something behind clenched teeth.

I return to my book and sigh.

Being a Marauder (or a god, as they say) it's tough but, in the end, it's not that bad.

THE END.


End file.
